The Fallen
by LadySephiria
Summary: Isabelle Valentine never expected to be in District 13. In order to be a part of the Rebellion, she has to get along with people around her, even the girl whose arrow killed her best friend. But opening up has never been easy for her and having a notorious reputation as a D2 Victor doesn't help either. It really isn't the time to be falling for Gale Hawthorne. GalexOC
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

"Promise me. Promise me that you'll come back." He looked at me, really looked at me. His blue eyes softened for a second as he met my eyes then they took on the stony determination that I knew so well.

"I promise," he said.

I nodded. My arms were crossed stiffly on my chest as if my body were trying to comfort itself, trying to keep me together. I couldn't cry in front of him. I refused to. He had wanted this. He was the one who volunteered. I looked at the ground unable to match his gaze, held myself tighter, and bit my lip. I welcomed the distance between us. He didn't move to comfort me.

At that time, we had told ourselves the same thing, that it wasn't goodbye.

Now he was dying, being eaten alive by Capitol mutts, and all I could do was watch from a screen miles away. No amount of our training prepared us for this moment. None of it could save either of us right now.

Someone told me to close my eyes, but I didn't. I couldn't. I watched as the District Twelve girl raised her bow, as she aimed, and as the arrow left her hands. I heard the cannon go off. I pictured the light leaving his eyes, a brilliant blue going dull. When the winners were announced, I still hadn't turned away from the screen. But I hadn't been watching either. All I could think about was that he had lost the Games and that I had lost him.


	2. Chapter 2

I wake up to a bright light.

I blink several times before I am able to see again and when I do, I am staring up at a white ceiling.

It is so different from my dark cell in the Capitol that I shoot up to a sitting position. My head swirls from the action and I have to pause to let it clear. Once it does, I take a good look of the room I am in.

It is clean and mostly white. It looks to be a hospital room.

I am sitting in a somewhat comfy bed with wires and IVs attached to my arms. A machine takes note of my heart rate.

Where am I? How did I get here?

I hear a faint murmur of noise outside the closed door.

Suddenly, my machine beeps louder. My pulse has gone up at the realization that maybe I am still in the Capitol. Last, I was being tortured. Maybe Snow had gone too far and had sent me to the hospital so I would not die and he could continue interrogating me.

Maybe he would enter through that door any moment with guards and take me back to my cell. Or back to the room with the metallic smell of blood and electric chairs.

The next moment, I am ripping the wires from my arms and stumbling to the cabinets and drawers, looking for any tool I can use as a weapon.

I have just wrapped my fingers around a metal scalpel when I hear a distinct noise.

Someone is right outside the door.

I grip the cold object tightly in my hands.

I was not going to be taken back without a fight.

When a man dressed in a plain grey uniform steps into the room, he is surprised to see the mess I had made while searching for the scalpel.

He must be more surprised when I jump out from the side, tackling him to the ground.

I bring the scalpel down, aiming for his eye, but he puts both his hands up to stop me. He is strong and I am unusually weak, so even though I apply as much as my body weight as I can into forcing it down, the metal doesn't budge. It is still many inches away from his face.

"Woah."

I look up and am startled to see Haymitch Abernathy.

I am so surprised that I lessen my weight on the scalpel.

Suddenly, I am on my back and my arms are being pinned to the ground. The soldier I had tackled has reversed our positions. Now he is on top of me, applying his body weight so I can't move.

"Haymitch," the man says, sounding angry. "You ass."

"I didn't know she'd have a weapon," Haymitch replies simply.

"But you knew she was going to do something. That's why you had me go first."

I glare at the ceiling.

"What the hell is going on," I ask Haymitch, still glaring.

"You've been out for the past week, ever since we had a rescue mission at the Capitol and Hawthorne here, found you. We were told your vital signs were up and were just stopping by to check up on you when you decided to repay him by attempting to stab him in the eye."

I take my first good look at Hawthorne, the soldier, who is still hovering over me. He is a man, a strong, young one. He has dark hair and grey eyes that seem to be cautiously accessing me too. And then I recognize him.

It's Gale Hawthorne, cousin of Katniss Everdeen. And he is on top of me.


	3. Chapter 3

When tributes are in the Games, their family and friends are interviewed and shown on TV. That's how I recognize Gale Hawthorne. I remember seeing his face on the screen, thinking that we had an unwanted connection created by the Capitol. Both of us were interviewed for having a loved one in the arena. Both of us had someone important to us that we wanted to come home. But while he wanted Katniss alive, I had wanted her dead because it was one step closer to my person living. And while Gale's special person came home, mine did not. He had died in the Arena right before the tributes from Gale's district were crowned winners.

So you have to understand my displeasure of having Hawthorne practically straddling me.

"Would you like to get off me now," I say as coldly as possible.

Gale looks startled by my rudeness. And yes, I know I'm being rude. I want him as far away from me as possible.

As he gets up on his feet, I make a remark just to get under his skin. "Or were you enjoying yourself?"

I respond to his glare with an unconcerned look.

"Is that any way to thank him for saving you and bringing you here?"

"And where is here exactly," I ask, purposely ignoring the rest of what Haymitch has said. I should be grateful for Gale. He had saved me. But there was no way I was going to admit it and be making friends with him.

I seem to be succeeding at making Gale dislike me because I can see his glaring at me out the corner of my eye.

Good.

"District Thirteen," Haymitch says.

Not good.

"District Thirteen," I repeat.

Both men are quiet, studying my reaction.

"Where the rebellion is," I finally say.

The looks they give me prove that I have spoken correctly.

"So you know what's happening," Haymitch states calmly. He's looking for something, I realize. He wants to know if bringing me here and saving me was the right thing to do.

"Snow," I say. I want to wrap my arms around myself when I think of the past month I have had and the things that man has ordered. I remind myself that I am in District Thirteen, far away from the Capitol, and resist the urge, aware of the two men looking at me. "He asked a lot of questions about all of it," I finish.

Haymitch nods. He doesn't ask me to elaborate.

Both men are quiet. I am aware of the bruises on my legs, the healing cuts on my arms, and how pale my skin is, especially in the hospital gown I am wearing. I must look very fragile to Gale who is still studying me. I look up at him blankly. His grey eyes are still hard but they aren't as harsh.

I have to change that. I can't stand for him to pity me.

"So I really have Katniss Everdeen to thank for saving me," I comment.

As expected, Gale is cautious again because of the tone of my voice when I say Katniss' name. "What do you have against Katniss," he questions.

I ignore him. Instead I try getting up from the floor. I don't like how much taller he is than I am when I sit on the ground.

I try not to look as weak as I feel when I struggle to stand, but know that I fail when a hand yanks me up.

I tear my arm away from Gale immediately and slowly walk to the bed, without looking at either men in the room. I don't need to see their expressions to know that I am not doing a great job of looking strong.

When I am finally seated in the bed and under the covers, Haymitch speaks, "Maybe you should report to Coin, Hawthorne."

By the look Gale gives the oddly sober Victor, he doesn't think its safe to leave anyone in a room with me alone.

I almost smile. Maybe I haven't failed completely at scaring him.

"Let me try talking to her," Haymitch states when Gale doesn't move.

The two of them have a silent conversation as they stare at each other. Gale is the first to decide standing there is the waste of his time. He gives me one last look, an unfriendly one, before leaving the room.

"Nice going," Haymitch says once the door closes and we are alone. "I was trying to prove that you weren't some hateful Career from District Two but you really didn't help."

I only look at him.

"You can stop glaring. Hawthorne isn't here anymore."

I just glare harder. "Why would you want to prove that? Why help me?"

"Would you rather we have locked you up like Snow did?"

"Why didn't you?"

"Look, Two," he says, calling me by the name he used with me. Haymitch and I are not friends, barely even acquaintances. We have encountered each other only a few times before. "The rebellion is here whether you like it or not. I don't know how long you've been gone, but the Districts have changed. Even your home is split with rebels and Capitol-supporters. We're going to need help keeping the peace in Thirteen. We don't know what type of people will join us here. We could use support from someone like you."

"You don't know me."

"I know you've never liked Snow. That's reason enough. Why not play nice with us and help us stop him?"

I am silent. Play nice with the Girl on Fire?

"Coin, she's the boss here, will want to see you eventually. Think about what I've said when you speak with her."

And then I am left alone with my thoughts.


	4. Chapter 4

_ Twack. _

I am frustrated.

_ Twack_.

My district is currently a war zone and I'm not there.

_ Twack_. _Twack_. _Twack_.

I stop when I realize I have thrown all the knives I have available. I take a deep breath. Knife throwing has always calmed me down. The sound of metal sinking into wood is satisfying.

I can feel eyes on me from different parts of the training room. I don't bother looking up, knowing the type of emotions I will see. Fear. Hate. Distrust. I woke up in the hospital about a week ago. I have barely interacted with people but from those few encounters, I know most of Thirteen do not like the people from Two. With the battle going on in Two and more citizens from my home district joining the rebellion in Thirteen, the split has been more obvious. We aren't very welcome here. They think we can turn on them any moment.

_ Clang_.

The sound of metal hitting metal wakes me from my thoughts and makes me look to my right. There is a boy practicing his knife throwing too. He looks to be around my age, seventeen years old. He is dark-haired, skinny, and only a few inches taller than me. I watch as he throws another knife incorrectly and it painfully misses the wooden target, instead hitting a metal beam to the side.

The boy cringes at the sound.

We are in a beginner's class. Haymitch has gotten permission for me to be in the training room when there are limited weapons available and guards watching very closely. I have yet to speak with Coin.

_ Clang_.

The boy has messed up again.

_ Clang_.

He is holding the knives wrong.

_ Clang_.

I hear laughter and turn to see a group of teens about our age. They are a stark contrast to the boy in front of me. While he has black hair, they mostly have blonde hair and fair skin. The group takes glances at him from across the room, the girls giggling when he misses and the boys smiling cockily.

I notice the dark-haired boy's jaw tick and his fists clench slightly as he continues training. He is aware of their ridicule.

Because I don't like the way that they look down on him, especially when they aren't much better, I find myself speaking, "You're holding them wrong."

The guy is startled by my voice. He turns to me, looks behind him, then back to me as if making sure it was him I was addressing. I can't tell from the nervous look in his eyes if recognizes me. Does he see me as another girl from Two or does he know my name too?

"The knives," I said. "You need to grip them more. Not like you're afraid of them."

He just stares at me.

I step forward and grab the knife in his hand before he can react. Without looking at him, I face his station and demonstrate holding the knife properly and throwing it. "Like that," I say holding the knife out to him.

He hesitates, looking at the weapon I offer and then to our right.

I follow his vision and see the group that was laughing earlier. Now, they have completely stopped their training to look at our corner of the room. They don't seem happy that I am interacting with the boy in front of me and watch him, waiting for his reaction.

I fix each of them with a glare. All but one go back to their training almost immediately. He has blond hair and blue eyes. He tries staring me down. Once I look straight at him, it takes two seconds for him to turn away.

Ha.

When I turn back to the dark-haired boy, he looks at me with a strange expression. I realize that I've been smiling smugly and have probably creeped him out a little so I put on a serious face and give him a pointed look.

It takes him a few seconds to process that I'm still holding out the knife to him, but then he jumps slightly, takes the weapon, and turns to his station.

"Align your elbow with the target."

He does this then throws the knife.

_Clang._

"Try again," I say before he can feel disappointment.

He does and the knife hits the wood before falling to the ground with a thud.

"Better," I comment. "But with more force this time."

When the knife leaves his hand, I know it will stick.

_Twack_.

It doesn't hit close to the bullseye, but its an impressive shot nevertheless.

The boy grins at his success.

When he turns to me, the supervisor yells that training is over. I exit the room before everyone else.

I'm barely through the door when I feel a hand on my shoulder. I spin away from the hand immediately and face the dark-haired boy.

"Thank you," he says with a smile directed at me.

I don't respond. I notice the rest of the class has caught up to us. They are exiting the room, giving different reactions to the boy conversing with me. I hear their whispers.

"What's he doing?"

"Doesn't he know who that is?"

"—dangerous."

"I'm Eli," the boy says. "What's your name?"

"Remember her Games?"

"She was…"

"…ruthless."

Eli looks at me, waiting for me to answer. But I can't stop listening to the conversations around us. Doesn't he hear them?

"—violent."

"Bloodthirsty."

"Eli!"

"Bitch."

Eli turns at the sound of his name. Another dark-haired boy comes up to us followed by other kids our age. The group hesitates when they see me.

"Hey Thom," Eli says casually.

The boy, Thom, looks unhappy. He scowls at Eli and doesn't make eye contact with me. "What do you think you're doing," he hisses.

"What?"

"You shouldn't be talking to her."

Eli looks at me confused and even though my expression remains stoic, I feel pity for his not knowing who I am, for his trying to make friends with someone like me.

"That's Isabelle the Heartbreaker," a girl says, stepping out from the group. She glares at me with so much hate. "She's the District Two Victor from the 72nd Hunger Games."


	5. Chapter 5

I was fifteen when I was reaped for the 72nd Hunger Games. I had been going to the Academy for only two years and even though I had made the Specials program, which was meant only for the best students, I didn't think I would win. Blake, my district partner and friend, seemed the likely winner. He was a Special too. He was good-looking, strong, and thoughtful. He was a good guy. The Capitol loved him too.

But then our Career alliance betrayed us. They took Blake and I by surprise and had me watch as Hadrian, the District 1 male tribute, tortured him to death.

The rest of my Games was a blur. I was filled with rage as I took out the rest of the tributes. I had no mercy when I used a knife to carve open Hadrian's chest as he had done to Blake. When I ripped his heart from his body and held it in my hands, I was crowned Victor. I went from Isabelle Valentine, the icy tribute from District Two, to Isabelle the Heartbreaker.

The girl who stands before me can only see Isabelle the Heartbreaker. From her posture and expression, I feel that the hatred she has for me is unlike that which I've encountered before in Thirteen. This is personal. She must have lost someone to my Games.

My suspicions are supported when I glance at Eli. He looks back and forth between the girl and I, unsure. He doesn't seem scared of me yet. He looks like he wants to speak up for me actually. But he still worries for his friend. He can't decide what to do.

I make the decision for him.

The girl whose name I learn is Talia as her friends advise her to back down notices the change in my expression first. She watches as I replace my apathetic appearance with an arrogant smile.

Eli, on the other hand, looks surprised. I can't look at him as I speak. "So you know who I am," I say as conceited as possibly.

There is a light in Talia's eyes as if she is satisfied to know I am what she has made me out to be. She's probably feeling smugger than I'm acting.

"Do you want an autograph or something," I ask.

Talia practically growls, understanding that I am trying to rile her up. The boy, Thom, glares at me as he stops her from lunging at me. I try not to think about how horrified Eli is with me as I continue flashing my superior smile. My fake, fake smile.

"If you know what's best for you," I say, glancing at Eli. "You'll stay away from me."

"Because you'll only get hurt in the end." I say this last sentence while looking at Talia then turn around and walk away. I walk away from the group with them believing I'm a horrible person. I walk away, remembering the look I saw on Eli's face as I warned him to stay away. I walk away thinking of all the words that Panem has used to describe me.

Stone-cold.

Ruthless.

Violent.

Bloodthirsty.

Bitch.


	6. Chapter 6

The hospital is a mess. After leaving many soldiers and citizens injured, the Battle at Two is almost at an end. I am sitting in the crowded hallway of the hospital section of Thirteen, eating the supplements that I have had to eat the past three weeks. A nurse handed them to me before rushing to stitch up a crying boy.

I have seen many people crying in the hallway today, some in joy, others for their losses. Hiding in my hospital room has not been an option because it is no longer my room. It now belongs to none other than Katniss Everdeen, who is healing from a gunshot wound.

I am reaching into my cup of vitamins while watching a father hug his young daughter tightly when suddenly someone has wrapped their arms around me and pulled me tightly to their chest. The cup has slipped from my hand and the vitamins have been scattered on the ground. But I don't care. Because when I fail at pushing away from the person who is holding me so tightly, the person only pulls me closer and speaks into my hair, "Thank god you're alive."

I stop struggling against the hug and look up into familiar brown eyes. "Aidan?"

"Isabelle," he retorts with a smile.

Suddenly, I'm the one giving the hug, which he returns immediately. I'm laughing from happiness. His eyes are tired, but there is a lightness to them. Aidan is sweet and playful as usual. He is also alive.

I pull away from the hug first to inspect his body, making sure he has no injuries.

"I'm fine," he assures me.

I keep checking though, which he only laughs at. With a smile—Aidan almost always has a grin on his face—he grabs my head with both hands and makes me face him properly. He studies my features.

The smile is still there but smaller when he speaks, "I wasn't sure if I'd ever see you again. The last time I saw you, you were being carried away by Peacekeepers. You were gone for days then weeks and then I didn't know anymore."

I give him a meaningful look. "I'm Isabelle Valentine. I'm a survivor, remember?"

"Yeah," he says, nodding and pretending to look very serious.

There is the sound of glass breaking and we both turn to see an injured girl struggling against two nurses. She has knocked a syringe away and refuses to be helped. I recognize her as one of our classmates and am about to stand up when they finally subdue her.

I turn back to Aidan quickly, "Where's Alex?"

Alex was the other friend I had left behind in District Two. Other than him and Aidan, all my other closest friends were already dead.

Aidan shakes his head. When he sees my expression fall, he starts to reassure me. "No, no, I don't know if anything bad has happened," he says. "You know Alex. If there's anyone who will survive all of this, it's him. He knows how to take care of himself."

I nod, letting his words sink in. "Where's Anna," I ask. "And your parents?"

He doesn't have to say a word. When I see the look on his face, I know that they have not survived. He hides his face on my shoulder. He is not crying but I know he's barely holding it together. Anna was only eleven years old. She is Aidan's little sister and he had always taken care of her.

"They blew up the Nut, Isabelle."

"What," I ask, looking down at him. I know I have heard him the first time but don't believe it.

"They blew up the Nut," he says, revealing his angry expression.

"The Capitol blew up the Nut," I state. At first I'm horrified, astonished by how far they are willing to go, but then I'm angry and remember that I really should not be so surprised.

"No, not the Capitol," Aidan tells me. "The rebels."

What?

"People were trapped after the explosion. They suffocated in there if they didn't get blown to bits first."

I close my eyes, thinking of the people from my home district, gasping for air and waiting for help that does not make it. I can feel the desperation they must have had and am reminded of my time in the Capitol. The dark cell. The room that smelled of blood. The electric chair. The water up to my knees. Then my chest. My neck. And then suddenly I'm-.

Aidan is touching my shoulder. He looks at me concerned and I realize he's been calling my name.

"Sorry," I say. "Sorry."

He doesn't ask. He's used to this. When I came back from the Games, I zoned out a lot like that.

I try my best to focus on my conversation with Aidan and not think about anything else. I face him and I think he's about to say something when he stops, looking past my shoulder.

I turn and see a man in District Thirteen's soldier uniform walking toward us with a purpose.

"Isabelle Valentine," he addresses when he's reached us. "President Coin would like to speak with you."


	7. Chapter 7

I enter the room to see an older woman, who I assume is Coin, sitting behind a large desk. She appears to have just finished having a heated conversation with Haymitch, who stands off to the side. Next to him, Gale Hawthorne leans against a bookshelf. He looks upset even before noticing me.

It all must have something to do with Katniss being shot, I think unconcerned.

"You're looking less awful," Haymitch comments, trying to break the silence that came the moment I entered the office.

There are three other people in the room. One of them is the soldier who brought me to Coin's office. The other two appear to be guards. Even though I had noticed and ignored the soldier taking glances back at me on the way here, they all silently observe me. I don't expect a fight, but the guns attached to their waists remind me to be alert and careful.

The sound of Coin saying my name makes me turn to look at her.

"Isabelle Valentine. Also known as Isabelle the Heartbreaker by Panem. Current age: seventeen. Hair color: brown. Eye color: blue. Height: 5'7". Only child. Status of parents: dead. Mother taken by sickness. Father in a fire. Sent to the Academy late but made it into Specials program quickly. Put into the top group known as the Alphas. Specialty: knives and stamina. A tribute to the 71st Games. Won after carving out the heart of the District 1 male tribute using her district partner's knife. Victor at age fifteen."

She finally looks up from the papers she retrieved from her desk. Her pale grey eyes were passive, but there was something distrustful hidden beneath them.

"So you can write a book about me," I say calmly, even though I don't like having details of my life told to strangers. "Complete with pictures."

"I have an offer for you," she states. "I've seen most of your records. I think you'll be a useful asset to District Thirteen. I believe you can help us with the Rebellion."

"Why would you want my help," I ask cautiously.

"Your records are impressive. You're a great fighter. You're well-known."

I laugh dryly. "Yeah. In the worst way. Have you seen the way people in this place look at me? How they look at the people from my District?"

"That'll all die down with _your_ help. We need someone like you to change that."

"Let me ask you again. Have you_ seen_ the way that most of the citizens react to me? They're scared. I'm not saying I blame them. I'm just trying to get my point across. I'm not the person you're looking for."

"We need someone strong and determined. From my sources, I heard you are with the right push. We need somebody who has a good reputation with the Career districts."

"My classmates hardly respect me."

"I've heard otherwise."

I am about to question who her sources are but she continues speaking, "You're a Victor. That has earned you a lot of recognition and respect from the type of people that we want you to help us communicate with and keep us up to date on. As this war against the Capitol progresses, we get more and more people joining us in Thirteen. Most of them are aware of the Capitol's cruelty and are loyal to our cause, but I predict there will be some who have other goals or who need more convincing." She looks at me when she says the last categorization.

"You don't know me."

"I know a lot about you," she says. "These papers tell me more than you probably realize. The names of your classmates. The names of your friends. The name of your boyfriend."

My first reaction is surprise. She knows something like that. I wonder who else here does. My second is to glare, wondering how she could dare talk about him here.

"_Late_ boyfriend," I remind her. "How did you even get my records?"

"Lyme."

"Lyme," I repeat to myself. "_She's_ your source. Where is she? I haven't seen her."

"I regret to inform you that she's dead. She was killed in the Battle at Two."

Lyme and I were never close or anything. She visited the Academy every once and a while and we had interacted, but she was as secretive as I was. I am still affected by Coin's not so sorry condolences though. Lyme was a strong, independent woman. Stupidly, I am surprised to hear she has died. I am also sad. Another person from my District gone. Another Victor gone.

That could have been me.

Remembering that I am in a room with six other people who are watching my reaction closely, I recover fast. I swallow the lump that was beginning to form in my throat and speak, "So that's why you want me. With Lyme gone, you need someone else to assure peace with the Career districts. Why not use Finnick Odair? I've heard he's here somewhere. He's from Four and everybody loves him."

"Finnick is helping us," Haymitch answers for her. "But he's not what we're looking for. He made his loyalty clear in the Quarter Quell. He doesn't have the same connection that you do with the type of people we need to interact with. And he's from District Four. They don't get the same reactions from the other districts than the people from your place do."

Haymitch's words were true. It was my district that was especially known for having bloodthirsty Careers. The reason why the other rebels might not trust us is because of the concern that we would turn on them, that it was in our nature to like violence and stand up for the Capitol. My District wasn't made up of bad people born to be killers, but I can't deny that there were students at the Academy who were pretty close. Most kids who attended the Academy were eager to fight. They weren't scared to get in an argument.

And those were the type of people that Coin needed to have a connection to. There would be young adults like me who attended the Academy and would make good soldiers. They would be useful to the Rebellion but only if they were on our side. Some of them might have only came to Thirteen because of their families. They would not actually like being here and wouldn't try to hide it. They'd cause problems not for the Capitol but just to refuse authority. If they reacted to the dirty looks they would receive from the people here, then it would be a mess.

"We also need someone that we can depend on to not try a coup d'etat."

For the first time, I openly acknowledge Gale whose comment had pulled me from my thoughts. I turn to him and see the familiar expression that he has around me. It is serious, cautious, and somewhat angry. By the way he spoke, he does not think I am that someone.

"Let it go, Hawthorne," Haymitch says, sighing. "We can rely on her."

"I don't understand how you guys believe that? Especially from what we know of her relationships."

So he does know.

"How do we know you won't hurt Katniss," he asks me. "She might want revenge for her boyfriend," he tells the rest of the room.

The room is silent at first. I think they expect me to talk, to defend myself or argue with him. But I just look back at him blankly. I don't need to explain myself to any of these people.

"Drop it," Haymitch warns when he sees I won't respond.

"I _don't_ trust her," Gale tells Haymitch. He says each word slowly.

"We can rely on her," Haymitch says, returning his look.

That's when I decide to speak up. Even I don't really understand where all this faith in me is coming from.

"How do you know that?"

The guards look a little thrown off that I'm not defending my case. Even Gale turns away from his stare down with Haymitch.

"Sweetheart, there's no doubt that you and Snow really don't get along," Haymitch answers. I glare at his tone and his word choice.

"How can you be so sure of my relationship with Snow? How do you know I don't have other goals?"

It is Coin that speaks next.

"I have multiple examples of evidence, including the condition that Soldier Hawthorne found you in at the Capitol prisons."

"If you were some Capitol-supporting Victor, you wouldn't have been tortured. You would have been set free." Haymitch says this about me but looks at Gale when he talks.

I glance at Gale and realize, it must have been a pretty horrible sight, finding me there. For once, he's not looking as though he wants to fight me. He notices my gaze. Our eyes lock and I send him a silent message: Don't feel sorry for me, don't you dare. When his expression hardens again, I am satisfied and look at Coin as she starts to speak.

"If you agree to this offer, you will be a vital part of taking down the Capitol and ultimately, Snow. You will also be allowed to train in the advanced sessions with my soldiers because eventually you'll be one of my soldiers. What is your answer?"

I've trained with arrogant potential Careers. I've had to deal with Snow and his politics. So I am completely aware of the undertone of her voice and the way she looks at me. She's presenting all of this as if it is a favor to me on her part. If I answer yes, I'm not only making her happy by agreeing to help her but also giving her the upper hand.

I've never been as prideful as the other people from my District. I want Snow's death and am usually eager to side with anyone who wants his downfall. I should just agree to help them and be grateful for being saved from the Capitol. But I couldn't do all of that. I really didn't like Coin or have respect for her. She had already tried intimidating me multiple times since I entered her office and I hated her way of power play. I was going to make things difficult for them.

"You blew up the Nut."

Only after I say it aloud do I realize how upset I actually am. The atmosphere of the room changes instantly. I've been pretty dispassionate and distant during this whole conversation, but now my words are spoken with barely contained anger.

"You blew up the Nut," I say again when no one responds. "You asking me to help your relationship with the people from my district when you've literally bombed it."

Coin glances to the side. I look at Gale whose expression is sympathetic and angry at the same time. There is some guilt too that usually I would care about, but right now, I'm not my normal self. All it tells me is he helped bomb up the Nut.

"We weren't trying to blow the whole place up," Gale says. "We were only disabling it. A tunnel was left intact for people to escape."

"Then explain to me why I heard people suffocated to death in there."

The muscle on Gale's jaw ticks. "We gave them a chance. They didn't take it. Instead, they turned on Katniss and shot her."

"She'll live," I comment. "A lot of them didn't, did they?"

He pushes him off the wall and takes a step toward me. We're facing each other. "They didn't surrender!"

"Some of them didn't have the chance to," I shout back. "They were scared and trapped and they didn't know what to do! There were normal citizens working there. _Good _and _innocent_ people."

"There were people like that too in my District. A lot of them," Gale says. I'm not the only one who is extremely pissed off now. "The Capitol didn't care when they bombed it, when people burned in the flames."

"So you take it out on us," I ask or rather scream.

"Calm down, Two," Haymitch says. He knows me as quiet and icy not violent and angry.

"You're asking _me_ to calm down? What about this guy," I say, pointing a finger at Gale who just scowls back at me. "What did you tell him when thought bombing the Nut was a good idea? Based of what? His need for vengeance on the Capitol, an _outlet _for his anger."

I am breathing heavily now. The room is silent and tense, but I'm past uncomfortable, I'm hurt and extremely upset for all the citizens of my district that could not voice anything when they suffocated in the debris or were blown to pieces.

"It was a strategic move. The Nut is a major source of weapons for the Capitol. It was going to be captured, so it was smart of Soldier Hawthorne to disable it."

I just stare at Coin. I don't know why I'm so horrified but I am. I should have learned by now that people can do things that are so very wrong and never see the fault in their actions. I'm shocked by how unconcerned she is.

She doesn't feel bad at all.

Just like Snow, I realize.

"You asked me for my answer," I say quietly but clearly. I'm barely holding back my rage. "Fuck you. Fuck all of you."

I turn and head for the doors.

I hear Coin's crisp voice. "Our meeting _is not_ over."

A guard, the soldier who brought me to her office in the first place, reaches for me, telling me to stop. I grab his hand at a certain angle then twist it. He tries to move out of the grip but only ends up hurting himself more.

"Don't try touching me again," I growl in his ear before releasing his hand and walking out of the room.


	8. Chapter 8

Coin doesn't call on me the next day. Even Haymitch doesn't try talking to me. I think they are going to give me space, hoping I will convince myself otherwise.

But I am too busy doing other things. Like ignoring the attention I get when I enter the cafeteria. It is the first time I have been somewhere so public. Before, I could have gotten my meals served to me by a nurse. But now that I've been cleared from the hospital, it's the only way I can get food. It's not that I'm too lazy to walk, it's just tiring having to deal with the attention.

Most of the looks I receive are the usual ones of fear and distrust, but there is also surprise, relief, and skepticism from the people in my district who did not know what had happened to me or did not expect me here.

Despite it being located close to the Capitol, Two was one of the smaller districts. Because of this, I am able to spot the people from my district. Clusters of teens stand out to me. They sit at tables concentrated in the corner of the cafeteria, away from everyone else. They are the type of people that Coin worries about. If they had been tributes in the Games, they would have been in the Career pack. Although the war has worn them out, they are still strong and fit, the type of kids who trained hard at the Academy, the type of people I was often around.

A pair of eyes catches mine. They belong to Garric Ducane, the brother of Blake Ducane, my district partner from the Games.

He smiles at me. I can only nod in acknowledgement.

I don't mean to be cold and I think, or hope, that he knows this. Garric and I are friends but aren't that close since we had trained in different groups at the Academy. I knew his twin brother better. Even though they had different looks-Garric has brown hair and eyes and Blake had black hair and blue eyes- and personalities, Garric reminds me of his brother too much. They have the same smile.

I continue scanning the room, looking for Aidan who is supposed to meet me for lunch, when I spot another familiar face watching me. His name is Jason. He has a normal build which had always put him at a disadvantage in the Academy. He smirks at me as if saying, I knew you'd make it out of there. It's a wry, twisted expression. While we are on neutral terms, he's never gotten along with the other kids in our district so I'm not surprised to see him sitting in the center of the cafeteria with his family.

It's the family that his sits near that catches me off guard.

To the left of Jason is Gale Hawthorne who is looking at me with a moody expression. A little girl who sits in his lap is trying to get his attention, but he continues staring at me.

I just look away.

I don't want to fight. I hadn't planned on arguing with him the other day. I hadn't planned on showing those people so much emotion. But I was too angry.

I slipped up.

Displaying my feelings will only lead to unwanted attention.

My mistake.

"Isabelle."

My eyes stop searching the cafeteria. They are wide as I turn to the source of the voice that has spoken my name.

Alex stands a few feet away. His dark green eyes are cautious and unsure as he studies me.

I'm usually not one to hug my friends. Neither is Alex. We both like having personal space. But I'm so relieved to see him that I take the few steps toward him and jump, throwing my arms around his shoulders.

I know he decides that it's really me the moment I reach him. He could have avoided it but instead he puts one hand on my hair and the other on my back, pulling me closer gently.

He lets out a sigh but doesn't say a word. He doesn't have to. Alex and I have always been rather similar. We're both collected people. Although he has always been calm and cool while I'm more restricted and reserved. We both prefer silence to noise and don't mind being alone.

Suddenly arms wrap around the both of us and we're being lifted into the air together. I hear a laugh beneath us.

"Aidan," Alex says irritated. Our feet are hovering off the floor slightly. "Put us down."

"Say the magic word."

Alex doesn't hesitate. I feel his arm move slightly.

Aidan yelps in pain when Alex hits him. He releases us immediately.

My feet touch the floor and I'm no longer connected to either of the boys in front of me.

"Ow," Aidan says, rubbing the back of his head and glaring at Alex like an upset child. Alex just ignores Aidan and runs a hand through his dark blond hair.

I just stare at both of them, relieved that my friends are alive and the same as always.

"So it's true." Even before I turn around to face the person, I know whom it is. I recognize the attitude in her voice immediately. Vanity Williams, a girl from my district, looks at me with a mix between a sneer and a smirk. "Little Isabelle survived the Capitol and is here in Thirteen."

She is beautiful. Her looks should make her seem sweet but her arrogance and viciousness have always ruined that effect.

The condescending tone she uses when she says my name doesn't go unnoticed. The people at the tables around us have gone quiet.

Her blue eyes look to the two boys behind me. "Aidan. Alex," she addresses in a different voice. She's always liked them.

"Hey Vanity," Aidan says politely.

Alex just looks at her bored. He doesn't care for being pleasant to people and can be cruel when he wants to be. He's never cared for Vanity either.

Vanity knows this as she turns back to me. "So is this where you've been the past few months? Hiding here while our district fell apart?"

We have caught the attention of most of the cafeteria. People glance at her and then at me. They're wondering who this girl is, challenging Isabelle the Heartbreaker. They're curious and some are even scared of how I'll react.

"Heaven forbid that Isabelle the Heartbreaker, a star student of the Academy and a good citizen of Panem, be punished for anything," she continues, sneering. "So how did you get out? Did they just let you go?"

The kids from Two only watch with amused interest. They've seen this many times before and know that nothing ever happens. Vanity is all bark, but no bite. And me? Well, I've never been much of a talker. And Vanity has never intimidated me. She's tried and failed. We both know that I can beat her in a fight. A physical one, that is.

"They wouldn't hurt one of their _precious_ Victors, would they?"

I narrow my eyes at her, now understanding what she's doing. She might have sounded jealous while talking about me because for some reason she always has been and acted like a jealous girl out to get me. But really, she has ulterior motives. Potential Careers should never be underestimated and Vanity is no exception this time. She's purposely highlighted what used to give me credit in District Two but now gives me a bad reputation in Thirteen. She wants the Rebels and the people in this cafeteria who are listening to distrust me.

"Vanity—."

I put my hand up slightly, interrupting Aidan. He was about defend me by telling her and everyone else listening that I had actually been held in the Capitol, imprisoned and tortured for two weeks. It would have helped with the cautious, suspicious looks I got.

But at the cost of my vulnerability.

And honestly, that was not worth the price. It wouldn't change everyone's opinion of me anyway.

I ended up not having to think of another way to get Vanity to back down because suddenly, Garric was there.

"Is everything all right," he asked. He looked casual and innocent as he rubbed the back of his neck. But I had seen him approach. He had walked with intent. He was here to draw Vanity's attention away from me. And draw her attention did he do to no surprise. Every student at the District Two Academy knew that if there was anyone that Vanity loved more than she disliked me, it had been Blake. He had never openly showed any interest in her, but he had always been a thoughtful, charming guy. Vanity had a weak spot for him. And it seems his brother too.

"Garric," she said surprised and happy. Her voice had changed. It wasn't sugary sweet, just softer.

"Hey," he said, flashing her a smile before turning his gaze to me. "So, is everything okay?"

Vanity suddenly looked nervous. I had to fight back a smile at Garric's acting. He had always been an innocent guy with boyish charm. I had never seen him use it like this as a weapon though. He wasn't the scheming type. That was more of his brother's thing. Not that Blake was untrustworthy. He was just always thinking. He always had a plan up his sleeve.

"No," she replied for me. "I mean, yes. Everything is okay. I was just saying hi to Isabelle. I haven't seen her for a while."

"Oh okay," he said, acting like he didn't hear her taunting me earlier from across the silent cafeteria. "Yeah, me too. It's good to see her alive and well."

"Yeah," Vanity got out. "Real good."

Alex and Aidan didn't bother hiding their smiles. While Aidan's was a genuinely amused one, resulting from Garric's using his charms, Alex's was more of a dark grin, resulting from Vanity's discomfort with having to say that she was happy to see me breathing.

Only after Aidan makes a comment when Vanity leaves following Garric am I not able to keep the amusement from my eyes. "He's devious. I _so_ wish Blake could have seen that."

_Yeah_, I think. I let a corner of my mouth go up slightly. _Blake would be proud._

For a few seconds longer, I'm still happy. I'm a little more amused when I notice how people turn away when they see Alex's dark expression.

But then, the lightness dies almost immediately and with it, any sign of emotion on my face. _Blake is dead_, I remind myself. _He can't enjoy this moment_.

_ So neither can you._


	9. Chapter 9

I look over the lake. There are always noises in the Arena coming from the creatures that live in the rainforest whether it's the bugs, which are probably venomous, and the animals, which definitely have a taste for human flesh.

Other than the waterfall that crashes into it in the distance, the lake is calm though.

And it is probably the most dangerous part of the Arena.

I don't want to know what Capitol creations swim in it. I picture a large worm with the mouth the size of a cavern. The idea of being in the center of the lake and suddenly getting swallowed whole, the worm engulfing me from below and rows of teeth surrounding me, stops me from taking another step toward the shore.

"What are you thinking?"

My head turns slightly to the right as I look at Blake whose gaze is on the body of water in front of us.

His black hair only compliments the blue eyes that make him so attractive to other girls. They are thoughtful, always analyzing and planning. He even chose this spot by the waterfall so that no one in the arena can hear our conversations. I doubt even the Capitol is able to broadcast our whispers over the crashing sound of the waterfall. I have always known Blake is good-looking, but his eyes are the wrong shade of blue for me. I miss the bright blue orbs of another boy back home. The boy who doesn't take crap from anyone and won't hold back his temper to impress a girl. The one who, if you haven't gained his respect, won't act like you have. He is straightforward, brutal, and dangerous.

The boy who girls want to love but don't know how.

I know he is watching us right now. There are cameras everywhere, probably zooming in on my face. I make sure to keep my expression neutral. I wonder if he knows that I am thinking about him at this moment.

There is a growling noise to my side. When I turn to the sound, I see a dog. It isn't a normal dog. It's definitely a creation of the Capitol. It bares it teeth at me.

The hairs on the back of my neck stand when it growls. I shouldn't be scared. Dogs don't scare me, not even this Capitol abomination. I have a knife. I should be prepared to fight it. But I am scared. I'm frozen in place because when I look into its eyes, they are so familiar. Bright blue orbs look angrily at me.

Then the dog pounces.

I shoot up from my bed. I am sweating and my heart is racing.

It was just a dream. Another nightmare.

The floor is cold when I get out of the bed. It is late at night and I try to be quiet as I step out of my room, walk through the living room area, and then enter the bathroom. I turn on the sink then splash my face with water.

Nightmares are not foreign to me. I've had them often since my Games. My time in the Capitol prison has only messed up my head more. It's been a while since they've been so vivid. Most of my dream had been a memory. Up until the dog, I had been reliving the beginning of a conversation I had with Blake during our Games. The part with the dog was fake, but the fear had felt real.

I look up from the sink and at my reflection. Dark blue eyes stare back at me. Blue has always been my favorite color. Not because they are the color of my eyes, but someone else's.

I hate that the Capitol has slowly been taking even that comfort away from me.

I turn off the sink then walk back into the living room.

Aidan sits on the couch. "Hi," he says.

Aidan, Alex, and I share a unit together here in Thirteen. It works out well for me. They are the closest friends I have left. Aidan's family is gone. Alex's parents had passed away before I had met him. Back in Two, he lived with his aunt and uncle. They're staying in another unit with their kids now.

"Hi," I reply, sitting next to him.

"Nightmare?"

I nod, pulling my legs up to my chest. Both of us stare down at the ground. The lights are off and it is quiet. "What about you," I ask.

"Same."

I glance at Aidan. His eyes are shut.

I have had several years to cope with my father's death. My mom died when I was pretty young. But Aidan's wounds are raw. He lost his entire family just two days ago.

Aidan breaks the silence first. "I wasn't with them when it happened. I should have been, but I wasn't. When I finally found them, it was too late. Everything was either destroyed or on fire."

I'm silent. I don't know what to say or do. I've never known how to comfort others. Aidan knows this as he continues talking. "Want to know something crazy? The cemetery was the only thing that may have survived. It was too far on the outskirts of Two."

"Does that mean the Wall still stands?"

"Yeah."

The Wall is a giant stone slab that has the names of the tributes from Two who did not survive the Games. For most people of District Two, it was an honoring of those who fought bravely for our district's pride. For some, it had been a reminder of the pain the Games inflicted. Either way, the Wall was a memorial for the Fallen, the ones that had been taken by the Capitol.

It's important to the both of us that the Wall still stands. The other districts judge us for having so many tributes that become Victors but we've had our losses too. The names of some of our closest friends are engraved on the Wall.

Blake.

Clove.

Cato…

I sit with Aidan in silence for a while, and later that morning, when I go back to sleep, I dream that I am dying in the Nut.

The next day before dinner, when I am walking to my unit from the training room, I see something I really don't like.

"Give it back," a boy says. He stands protectively in front of a younger boy and an even younger girl.

They look like siblings with their dark hair and olive skin.

In front of them are two older teenage boys who look around my age. They

grin cockily. One of them has a doll rabbit in his hands. "Try to take it," he says.

The group has not noticed me. We are the only people in this hallway.

"Rory," the younger boy warns. He is soothing the younger girl who is crying. "Don't."

Rory just growls quietly in frustration. I notice his fists are tightly clenched. He knows he can't take on the two teens. Their statures might not compare to Aidan's, but they still seem pretty strong. They have muscles while Rory is skinny. I wouldn't be surprised if they were from District 4. They're not from my district and there aren't any people that I know of from District One that have joined the Rebels.

The little girl does something unexpected. She runs past Rory and reaches for the stuffed animal. When Rory tries to stop her, he is pushed back and falls harshly to the ground.

The teen boy doesn't release his hold on the doll as the little girl tries to pull it from him. He just laughs and continues to when she stumbles, loses her grip, and falls back too.

Luckily, Rory catches her while still on the ground.

"You guys are cruel," the youngest boy shouts. He crouches down to look at the little girl who is now clutching onto Rory and sobbing quietly.

The teen boys just laugh. "Got any other words in your vocabulary to describe us," one of them taunts.

"As******," Rory states.

They just laugh harder.

"How about pathetic?"

All eyes turn to me, except for the girl's. She is still hiding her face in Rory's shoulder. I walk to stand next to the three younger kids and face the two older teens.

"Who are you," the boy holding the rabbit asks. Like his friend, he is examining me, wondering who interrupted their fun. Before, when I was in my best physical shape, I would have been able to take on both of them with the right moves. But now, I'm not so sure. I will have to get through this with words and confidence.

I start by ignoring the question. "Really? Picking on kids younger than you. That's its own category of stupid for someone to do that here."

"Stay out of our business," the boy says.

"Don't you have better things to do," I say unfazed by his warning tone.

"The girl ran into me. She should have watched where she was going."

I glance at Rory who looks up at me with cautious grey eyes.

Something about him is familiar. I know I've never met him before though. I look at the little girl in his arms and realize I recognize her. She was the same one I saw sitting on Gale's lap the other day.

Then I realize who these kids are. They must be Gale's siblings because the third kid looks too much like Gale to be anyone else.

The little girl finally looks up from Rory's shoulder. Her grey eyes stare up at me filled with tears. I focus my attention back to the boys in front of me.

"What district are you guys from," I ask.

"Four," he responds proudly.

"Two," I state casually, even though I was never asked.

"Drew." Drew, the boy holding the doll, had been doing all the talking. His friend had remained silent, looking at me, until now.

"So you went to the Academy," Drew asks me, ignoring his friend.

"Yup," I respond.

Drew looks impressed and pleased with my response. He crosses his arms over his chest, making himself look bigger. "So you know what the Specials Program is?"

"Yup." All of the Career Districts had an Academy where kids from the age of 12-18 could train and prepare for the Hunger Games. It was different from normal school. Its students were judged off factors that would help in the Games. The best fighters were usually the best students in the Academy. These were the type of kids put into the Specials Program. The Program consisted of three classes: Alpha, Beta and Gamma.

"We were both Gammas," Drew says arrogantly.

Even though Gammas were the lowest level class, it was considered very impressive to be one because it meant being in the Special Program.

"What about you," Drew's friend asks. I can tell by his tone that he already knows the answer.

"I was an Alpha."

The effect is as expected. Alphas are the best of the best. Having the status of an Alpha gives you respect in the Career community.

There is respect and caution present in the eyes of Drew's friend. But Drew is a different story. He laughs. "I don't believe you," he says.

I just stand there unaffected. I've lost my paleness and regained some of my strength. I look normal. I'm aware that doesn't help me convince him of anything.

"Drew."

"What," he says, turning to his friend while chuckling.

"That's Isabelle Valentine."

Drew immediately stops laughing and turns back to me. He looks at me seriously.

"Brown hair. Blue eyes. District Two. Alpha," his friend lists off. "I heard she's one of the Victors they saved from the Capitol."

Drew nods in agreement with his friend's words. He's smiling, looking arrogantly down at me. "You don't look like much," he mocks.

"That's what everyone thought about Johanna Mason," I respond. "Before she won the 71st Hunger Games."

The smile on his face disappears while one appears on mine. It's vicious and confident, borderlining a smirk.

"It's also what Hadrian Radshaw said about me before I ripped his heart out," I add.

The first part of that statement is a lie. But it does the trick.

Drew tries to hide his uneasiness. He knows he's crossed a line now, messed with an Alpha, who is not only a Victor but is also known for taking out a group of actual Careers with only a knife. His friend either doesn't try or fails at hiding his fear. Physically, he's still standing there. But mentally, he's backed away from this stand off by more than several steps.

"Whatever. You can have the doll back," Drew says, tossing it to me. His friend and him start to walk away. "We were just messing around."

I turn back to the little girl, offering the stuffed animal. When she reaches up to grab it with her small hand, I can't help it. "Wait," I call out, not looking away from the girl.

I hear the two District Four boys stop walking. "What," Drew says. He sounds annoyed.

"You need to apologize," I say.

"What?"

I turn back to face the two older teens. "You need to apologize to these kids."

Drew and his friend look at me incredulously.

"You caused them a lot of trouble," I comment.

Drew looks ready to argue when his friend speaks, "We're sorry."

"Jace!"

Jace ignores Drew this time. He looks at me, waiting for a response.

It's not his apology I wanted though and he seems to understand this as he turns to his friend. Jace is smart, from what I've seen so far, or smarter than Drew at least. I think he's the one that really ends up making the decisions because with a serious and stern look from him, Drew complies. "Sorry," he mutters.

"I didn't hear that."

The three of us older teens turn to Rory who is now on his feet. He crosses his arms, grinning mischievously at Drew. His younger sister stands next to him. She hugs the rabbit tightly to her chest.

Drew is about to take a few steps toward us but Jace stops him. "With one Alpha, comes more," Jace warns.

Drew is extremely reluctant as he spits out an apology. "Sorry," he says louder before storming out. Jace follows him without a second glance.

I watch them until they walk around the corner before turning to the three kids.

They all stare at me.

I stare back.

(BREAK)

"It was SO cool, Mom."

I am standing awkwardly in the Hawthorne's unit after Rory and mini Gale, whose name I learned is Vick, dragged me to meet their mom. Rory has just told his story of how I "saved" him and his siblings from "butthole" teenagers from Four.

"Thank you, Isabelle," Mrs. Hawthorne says. "Posy loves that doll. Her oldest brother, Gale, gave it to her."

I have only started nodding in response when their front door opens. Speak of the devil.

As expected, Gale is very surprised to see me with his family. What I don't expect is the look of concern that immediately takes over his features when he notices Posy and her tear-stained eyes. Forgetting to glare at me, he rushes over and kneels down to her height. It's oddly touching.

The last thought is knocked out of my mind when Gale faces me with an angry expression. "What did you do?"

I back up as he stands to his full height. I'm not intimidated. I'm just startled by his thought process. "Excuse me," I say a bit defensively.

"Gale," Mrs. Hawthorne shouts before he can say another word. "Isabelle didn't do anything. It was some boys from Four. She actually helped Posy and your brothers."

It takes Gale a while to absorb his mother's words. The look he gives me is strange. It's a mix between disbelief, caution, and another emotion I can't quite place.

"It's true!" Rory pipes in then starts retelling his story to Gale with Vick. I watch as Gale looks down at his younger brothers and focuses on their animated talk.

"I should go," I tell Mrs. Hawthorne.

"Why don't you join us for dinner," she asks.

"What." Gale and I speak at the same time. For once, we have something in common. We're both caught off guard by her suggestion.

"Dinner starts soon. We'd love your company."

Gale does not seem sure about that.

"Um, with all due respect, Mrs. Hawthorne," I start to decline.

"You can call me Hazelle," she says with a smile.

I nod a bit awkwardly. "Okay, well, um, Hazelle." I say her name with discomfort. It's strange being so informal with Gale's mother. "Thank you. For the invitation. But I should sit with my friends. They got here just recently and are new to all of this." I almost cringe at my excuse. Aidan and Alex would do fine without me.

Hazelle nods in understanding though. "Okay, then another time," she states with a smile.

I doubt Gale would want that. I look at him to find him watching me intently. His eyes only avert away from mine to lower his gaze at something else. I feel a tug on my shirt and look down to see Posy staring up at me.

"Will you play with me another time," she asks.

"Um, sure," I reply. She's so small. Her big grey eyes that look up at me make it really hard to say no.

"Promise?"

That word makes me freeze inside.

Promises used to mean a lot to me. But I had become so accustomed to having them broken that I stopped even making them.

I can feel the Hawthornes' staring at me, waiting for my response. I have the urge to shift uncomfortably as I speak. "Yeah," I manage. "I promise." It's not that I plan on breaking it. It's just the first promise I've made in a long time.

I say my goodbyes and head to the cafeteria.

When I'm sitting with Alex and Aidan, I am aware of the grey eyes that watch me from across the cafeteria.


	10. Chapter 10

**(A/N) Please review/give me suggestions. I'm new to writing. I would really appreciate any thoughts.**

"Who is he?"

"Who," I ask Aidan. We are sitting at a table with Alex. Aidan has been quiet ever since dinner started.

Both Alex and I had been waiting for him to say what was on his mind.

"That guy with dark hair and olive skin," he says, staring over my shoulder.

Granted, there are a lot of people from District Twelve with that trademark description, but I know exactly who Aidan is talking about. I just shrug though, not bothering to turn around.

"He's been glancing at you all week."

Alex looks around the cafeteria lazily. "Where."

"My 1 o'clock," Aidan says. "Tall. Looks strong."

I watch Alex's reaction, wondering if he recognizes the person.

"I would say that maybe he likes you, but sometimes he looks pretty angry and it's directed at you," Aidan comments.

"Isabelle, what have you done to piss of Gale Hawthorne?"

I half-heartedly glare at Alex. I haven't done anything wrong recently. I don't know why he's watching me either. "Nothing," I defend.

"That's him?" Aidan asks, looking at Gale with a new interest.

"How do you know about Hawthorne," I ask.

"I remember him from the interviews that they screened of family members," Alex responds. "He's the Girl on Fire's cousin."

"He was at Two when Katniss got shot. He caught her. He might be only a little older than us but apparently he's one of the leaders here. Ever since he helped get his district here. Most people know of him."

Aidan's words remind of that time I walked into Coin's office. Gale had been looking particularly agitated. I knew it had to do with his cousin.

Alex looks at me. "Have you met him?"

"We've exchanged words."

Alex raises an eyebrow and then looks at Aidan who just shrugs. They both wait for me to explain.

"They weren't nice ones," I supply.

"I can't picture you being mean," Aidan says.

I give him a skeptical look.

"You're not a mean person, Isabelle."

"I'm not a nice one either."

"Yes you are," Alex says, stealing a pea from Aidan's plate.

Aidan points at Alex. "He's the one who's not nice."

"I'm horrid," I tell them.

"Are you really arguing this," Alex asks me with a smirk.

"I'm not arguing. I'm just being honest. I can be very mean."

"Maybe to these people," Alex says gesturing around the cafeteria. "But they don't know you like we do."

"Icy Isabelle was just an act for the Games," Aidan comments.

I shake my head, standing up. "You guys don't know what you're talking about."

Alex and Aidan just shake their heads too as if I'm being silly and dramatic.

"The lack of food is going to your heads." I push my trey towards the center of the table. "Here, eat up."

I leave Aidan and Alex to fight over the rest of my dinner. I've lost my appetite. What are they talking about? Me? Nice? Did they not see me during the Games?

When I turn the corner into a hallway, I become aware of a presence behind me. Someone is following me.

I spin around fast. The sudden action seems to startle Gale. He looks surprised that he was caught. He was impressively silent with his steps.

"Hawthorne," I say.

"Valentine."

"Why are you following me?"

At first, he glares at me as if it's my fault that he got caught in the act, but then he sighs. "Look, about last time, when you helped Posy," he starts to say.

"Stop," I tell him, knowing where this conversation is going. "You don't have to say another word."

"I was just—"

"—going to thank me," I finish for him. "I know. And you don't have to. Yeah, I helped your siblings. They're little and they needed it. But that doesn't change anything between us."

Gale is quiet.

"You don't owe me anything," I tell him before turning and walking away.

My name is Isabelle Valentine, and I am not a nice person.


	11. Chapter 11

"Enobaria?"

My past mentor doesn't respond with words. Instead she grabs my hand forcefully. I try pulling away but she only grips my wrist tighter.

I am not really surprised that the female Victor with razor sharp teeth is here in Thirteen. She's always had a rebellious side that came with her vicious and aggressive character. It just startles me to see her walking down the hallway towards me. I hadn't heard any news of her recently.

She drags me through Thirteen, ignoring the looks the two of us together receive. She doesn't speak, even as she brings me into one of the training rooms already occupied.

This is not a beginner class. The people in this class are strong and well-built. They're training to be soldiers.

The sight of the fierce Enobaria dragging a reluctant Isabelle the Heartbreaker into the room has gained the attention of a majority of them, including Gale Hawthorne. He has a scowl on his face but this time it seems I'm not the main reason for it. If anything, he looks a little concerned, maybe even for my sake. He stands across from a confused Finnick Odair.

Enobaria tugs me once more, this time throwing me to the floor in the center of the room. When I look up at her, I am glaring. "What the f*** are you doing," I practically spit.

"You can stop with the attitude," she says.

"What attitude," I bite out.

"Isabelle, I was your mentor. I taught you how to be like that. You're not fooling me."

I just give her a hard stare.

"Coin made you an offer," she states.

"Yeah, what's it to you?"

"You declined."

"Yeah."

"That was stupid."

I move to get up and leave the room, but she kicks me back down. Hard. I pretty much growl at her.

"Oh, stop acting like a child."

The thing is, Enobaria and I actually get along pretty well, given the people we are. She's always been like a crazy aunt, the one you are forced to be around and sort of like but don't like at the same time. She helped me survive the Games. I have some respect for her somewhere deep down.

"You piss me off," she says.

Deep, _deep_ down.

I sigh. "What do you want, Enobaria?"

"You've always been different from the other kids from Two. When I met you, you were against the Games. You disliked fighting. But you still trained hard because you were a survivor. You wanted to live. Now, we're here in District Thirteen. You have a chance to take down the Capitol. Katniss Everdeen is fighting for all the things that you would. But you're sitting on your ass, doing nothing but being a brat."

"I've been training."

"With a class that's doing stuff that twelve year-old kids at the Academy do."

I glare at her, knowing she has a huge point.

She only raises an eyebrow at me. "You should stop with that act. There's no need to convince anyone here. The Games are over."

"You know they're really never over."

"True, but this isn't the Arena. It's a different game. You have to learn to play it."

I am quiet.

"You're not helping them or yourself."

"What?" I barely manage the word, knowing exactly what she's referring to.

"Do you think they'd be happy for you? Do you think they'd want you to be living this way?"

I don't respond.

"You're not doing him a favor either. Refusing to get along with Everdeen won't change anything. He's dead."

That's when I spring up from the floor, aiming a punch at her jaw.

She catches my fist, then pulls me forward. Her arms move to put me in a headlock but I elbow her in the stomach and step away from her before she can do that.

When I turn back to face her, she is already throwing a punch. I lean backward just enough to miss it. I barely regain my balance in time to shift my head left and dodge another punch.

Then it is my turn.

I send a kick to her stomach. She jumps back so that it doesn't really hurt her. It only causes her to stagger back a little.

You think I'd have an advantage with that last move, but the next two punches I throw don't land.

I keep sending them at her. It's not enough though. She keeps dodging them. I feel myself getting tired. I am slowing down.

Enobaria and I have similar fighting styles. We are of the same strength and build. We rely on our speed and agility. The only difference used to be her aggressiveness and my stamina.

That was before.

Now I can feel the toll that has been taken on my fighting for not having trained properly for the past few months.

Enobaria knows this. She lets me tire myself out and when I take a little too much time to take in a breath, she uses it to her advantage. My punch comes in a tad bit slow. Just enough time for her to turn away from me, grab my arm, and flip me over.

I hit the ground hard, the air getting completely knocked out of my lungs. I don't get a chance to catch my breath either. She flips me over onto my stomach and digs her knee into my lower back. One hand grabs my wrist to pull my arm behind me painfully. Her elbow puts pressure on the back of my neck.

"You're weak," she says in my ear. "Weaker than when you entered the Games."

I squirm as much as I can, but she holds my arm behind my back in a grip that makes moving only hurt me. I growl in frustration.

"You're acting just as reckless as he was," Enobaria says, pushing me into the floor harder. "Why do you think he didn't make it out? He was too forward, too arrogant with his actions."

Her words just make me struggle more. It proves useless though.

"What do you want Enobaria," I ask, frustrated and furious. My voice is loud. "Really? What do you want from me?! Why do this? In front of all these people?"

"If you want revenge against Snow, you're going to have to grow up and let things go. You're never going to beat the Capitol like this."


	12. Chapter 12

_I stand at the door unsure. _

_Do I enter or do I leave?_

_My hand hovers over the handle. _

_I know it'll be a defining moment. Once I walk through the door, all eyes will be on me. At that point, I wouldn't be able to go back. They would think I am scared._

_And I am scared. What if this is the wrong choice? What if they never accept me?_

_I back away from the door, prepared to walk out of this place, but then, my feet take only a few steps before stopping. _

_Leaving could be the wrong choice._

"_Are you going to go in?"_

_I spin around to see Blake. How long has he been standing there, watching my internal debate? I know he had noticed me jump slightly at the sound of his voice but he doesn't comment._

"_So are you going to go in," he asks again._

"_Um, yeah," I say, staring at the door._

"_You sure about that?"_

_I look at him. His voice has a deeper tone to it than usual. There is something weighty about his words. _

_I may not know Blake well but I don't think he is a malicious person. He doesn't display the same aggressiveness or encroaching interest in me as the other kids do. Right now, though, he watches me with a significant look in his usually neutral expression. There is the promise that what I face inside that room won't be easy. He wants to know that if I decide to walk through that door, I am prepared to stay with my choice. _

_It is this subtly challenging stare that helps me make my decision. _

_I want to be strong._

"_Yes," I say, my tone serious. "I'm sure."_

_I have to do this for myself. _

_Blake just nods._

_Without another word spoken between us, I push on the two doors to the training room with both hands. They fly open._

Standing in front of the room that Enobaria had dragged me into yesterday, I have the same uncertainty I had felt on my first day of officially joining the Alphas of the District Two Academy. Just like that time, I'm aware that I am about to enter a place where people won't welcome me.

Though, this time, there is no Blake to help with my decision.

I know I could have asked Alex or Aidan for assistance. But I've never done that. Asked for their help, that is. I don't want to bother them. I can do this on my own.

Without another thought, I walk into the training session.

No matter how subtle I try to make it, my entrance is very noticed. Not every person has stopped training to stare at me but some do. The room has definitely gotten quieter.

I cross my arms and stand casually off to the side, but really, I'm not really sure what to do next as I scan the room. I notice that, rather than fearful glances, most of the people in this room looking my way watch me either a hard stare or curiosity. I hide my relief at the realization that the students in this class are soldiers who won't be scared of someone like me, especially after what Enobaria had shown them.

A middle-aged woman starts to walk up to me from across the room.

When I avoid meeting the grey eyes staring at me, I end up locking gazes with Finnick Odair. He sends me a reassuring smile, which makes me more uncomfortable. We have never been close. Other than the events hosted by the Capitol for Victors, we don't interact. I am aware that both of us are pretty similar by acting in the past like we embraced the Capitol and our Victor status. I know he is not really the huge flirt that he has been on screen. But before I had only seen him as that. I didn't like his easy-going suaveness. At least Cato was honest about his brutality. At least he didn't trick you into trusting him.

That wasn't the only thing about him that bothered me though. Finnick and I had come from similar circumstances. He had been from a Career district. He had killed more kids than I in the Games. Yet, he wasn't treated the same. The Rebels saw him as strong and respectable while I was feared and disliked.

I turn away from Finnick. I know my feelings toward him come from jealousy and frustration. It really isn't his fault that people receive us differently. It is mine for carving Hadrian's heart out of his chest. But I can't help but remember the way the Victor from Four took out all his competitors in the Arena by skewering them with his trident and think that he was at just as much fault as I was. For him it had even seemed easier.

"Soldier Valentine," the woman addresses when she reaches me. "Coin said you'd be joining us today."

I hadn't spoke to Coin but I guess Enobaria did. My mentor had everything planned out to my chagrin. I never told her I had decided to train with the high level class. I wasn't even sure if I would walk through that door.

"I'm Jackson," the woman introduces. "I'm one of the soldiers in charge of this class."

I only nod at her once in acknowledgement.

"Though it's more of a training space than a class. The people in this session are skilled enough to not really need a teacher, so you're free to train as you need."

I nod again, pleased with the information. I like this setup.

"Being in this class also means you'll eventually gain access to weapons of your choice to carry around with you. But…" Jackson hesitates.

"But that requires a certain amount of trust," a hard voice cuts in.

I turn to the man who has joined our conversation. He has unruly black hair and appears to be a few years older than me. "And skill," he adds.

"Soldier Turner," Jackson addresses, eyeing the modern-looking military axe that he grips with his left hand. The weapon isn't raised. It hangs loosely at his side, but any weapon, especially one of that size, along with the dark look he gives me makes me cautious.

I remain calm on the outside but inside, I'm prepared to move if he starts swinging it at me. Once I get my hands on the training knives about ten feet away, I won't be at a disadvantage.

"She's joining our class," he asks seriously.

"Yes," Jackson replies.

The man, Soldier Turner, looks at me with a hard, cold expression before scoffing and turning away. Jackson watches him stalk away to a corner of the room then sighs tiredly.

"You're going to meet a lot of difficult people here," she comments, still staring at Turner as he throws the axe a training dummy. It hits pretty close to the heart and almost knocks over the entire target. If it had been a real person, the body would have fallen to the ground in a bloody mess.

"Not anything I'm not used to," I say honestly.

Jackson looks at me with a new interest. She does this for a little longer than I'd like to ignore before speaking, "Lyme recommended you to Coin. She told us a lot about you."

"Lyme didn't really know me. We weren't even friends."

"She was my friend," Jackson says. "I respected her a lot and I'll respect her opinion. You won't have to worry about me being like that."

I am a little startled by her statement, but I try my best not to show it. "So can I just start training," I ask looking around the room.

People lie all the time. Promises are easily broken. She can easily go back on her words. I'm not one to be trusted. It's just better not to get too attached. At least that way, no one gets let down.

"Actually, someone requested to be your training partner," she says, acknowledging someone past my shoulder. I turn around to see a guy around my age approaching us. I realize I recognize him. It's the soldier who took me to Coin's office and had tried to stop me when I left. "I'll leave you two to it," Jackson tells the guy and I before walking away.

We stand there looking at each other. It's purely analytical. He's taking a good look at me and I'm trying to figure out if he is okay with this set up or if he was ordered by Coin to do this. He breaks the silence first. "I'm Jet," he says.

"Isabelle," I reply neutrally. His tone was calm and casual, not upset with me for hurting his wrist during our last encounter. I wonder if he's a good actor.

"I know," he replies with a small smile. It's not smug or threatening, but polite and nice, which makes me a little more cautious. "So what do we want to start with," he asks, motioning to the equipment in the room.

"You don't have to do this," I state.

"What?"

"Train with me. If Coin forced you to, I'll tell her I don't need a partner."

It's not true. A training partner would be helpful. But I don't want him to be doing something against his will.

"No one is forcing me to. It was suggested that you have someone to train with and I volunteered," he tells me.

I don't ask why. I gave him an out and he didn't care for taking it so he might have his reasons but they're not my concern if he's okay with training with me. Also, if it turns out he dislikes me and wants payback, I'll just be careful and worry about that road when I go down it. I'm no stranger to people wanting to kill me in training. I've fought against many potential and actual Careers. They don't play nice. "What weapons are you used to," I ask, leaving the previous conversation in the past.

"I've trained with pretty much all of them back at Four. I was in the Academy," he replies, going along with my change of subject.

"Then how about the bo staffs," I say, pointing at one of the training racks. I had already guessed Jet's district because of his sea green eyes, a trademark of Four, and his build. I can't help but evaluate people when I meet them. It's a habit that came from years of training to know your opponent, their strengths and weaknesses, so you could survive in the Arena. Jet's build is similar to Finnick's, sculpted and athletic. It comes from an active District Four life, swimming and spearing fish. Wielding a bo staff would be easy after tridents and spears.

Jet nods, impressed with my choice.

Bo staffs are good for combat fighting and effective for training. The Academy had us train with them when we were younger. They helped us with strength, speed, and technique. I was ready to start from the bottom and climb my way up. As Enobaria had reminded me painfully, I needed to get stronger.

"Let's do this," Jet says.


	13. Chapter 13

I am walking to my unit when something stops me in my tracks. I hear something that doesn't belong in the hallways of the hospital sector. I pause, listening for the noise again, and think I hear a meow. When I take a step back and peer into the corridor where the sound came from, my suspicious are proved correct. There is a cat sitting in the corner.

I walk up to it quietly.

The cat isn't pretty but it is lucky. Coin doesn't seem like the type of person to allow pets in her district. I'm surprised I'm the only person here that had noticed it. But then again, most people are still at dinner.

When I reach down to pick it up, it hisses at me, shooting its paw out. "Hey," I say, practically hissing back. He scratched my hand.

"What's going on over here?"

I don't really think about my actions as I turn around, plant my butt on the ground, and scoot close to the corner all at once. When I look up, I see Thom, the person who had spoken. The cat is hidden from view, trapped between the walls and my back. I don't think Thom was close enough to see the animal. He looks at me suspiciously.

"Isabelle?"

Behind Thom is Gale Hawthorne. I don't know what startles me the most. Is it that I had not noticed another person until I heard his voice, that Gale decided to address me by my first name, or that this is all happening?

I go with the last one. I am trying to save an ungrateful animal that is currently squirming around behind me while I face two men literally staring down at me.

"What are you doing," Gale asks. I ignore the fact that he doesn't look at me with his usual scowl or cautious eyes. I'm too flustered by the hissing noise that the cat is starting to make.

"Nothing," I blurt out. "I'm doing nothing."

Now Gale is looking at me suspiciously too. Though his expression is not distrusting like Thom's, just extremely doubtful.

"You're on the ground," he comments.

"I'm sitting," I say simply. Then I have to speak again, but this time louder, because silence will allow the boys to hear the cat that is still complaining. "I wanted to sit!"

"So I sat…" I finish, cringing on the inside.

The boys exchange confused looks. Thom seems less suspicious and more unsure.

Probably about my mental health.

"Why here," Thom asks, distrust evident in his voice.

"It was the best place," I respond immediately without thinking. The cat has suddenly calmed down. His quietness makes me more nervous.

"Why?" Thom questions.

_Why?_ "Because I fell."

"You fell," Gale repeats.

Maybe later I will look back at my answers with mortification, but right now, I am too anxious for them to go to feel embarrassed.

"Yeah," I say louder than necessary. "I fell."

"Are you okay," he asks.

"Yeah." _When will they leave?_

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

It is silent between the three of us.

_Please leave. Please leave. Please leave._ I chant in my head.

"Well, we're going to go," Thom says, already taking a step away.

I nod eagerly at his words and have to slow my movements to seem calm rather than suspicious.

Thom starts to walk away but pauses. "Gale, c'mon."

I realize Gale hasn't moved. He just stares at me intently. His grey eyes flicker down to the corner behind me, which makes me fidget a bit. He notices the gesture.

"Gale."

Gale looks at my face one last time before turning around.

They are only a few steps away and I have barely started to mentally sigh in relief when I feel a sharp pain across my back. "Ow," I voice loudly, angry at the cat. He just clawed me.

The guys spin around at my cry of pain. _Stupid Isabelle_, I chide myself.

"Okay, what's really going on here?" Thom's voice is hard and very suspicious.

"Nothing," I say. "I hurt my hand when I fell and it started to—_OW_!"

"What do you have behind you?"

I'm about to answer Gale's question when the cat pretty much howls in fury. All pairs of human eyes go wide for different reasons. Thom looks startled. I'm thinking that I've just been caught and cats shouldn't be able to howl. I can't quite understand Gale's reaction. At first he looks surprised but then he's not. He isn't angry either.

Before I can make sense of Gale's reaction, Thom is stepping towards me. "Okay, what are you hiding here?"

"Thom—" Gale starts to say.

But then I am pulled up harshly by the arm and away from the corner.

The cat looks up at all of us, hissing. Its fur stands up on his neck. It glares at me in particular.

I glare back at the cat, but I'm too tired to hold the look for longer than a second. "I was trying to help you," I tell it.

I receive an annoyed sound in response.

"What the—" Thom looks mystified. He probably thought I was hiding a weapon more dangerous than a mean house cat.

I turn to Gale to see his reaction. He doesn't face me. His back is to both Thom and I as he leans against the wall with one arm. His other arm covers his face and his shoulders are shaking.

He didn't seem mad earlier. "Hawthor—"

"HAAHAHA."

Thom and I both step away in surprise.

(BREAK)

Gale leans against the wall in the corner of the room, watching me with an amused expression. Occasionally, he smiles like an idiot too. I just ignore him, sitting moodily on the examining table as Primrose Everdeen tends to the scratches on my back.

It turns out that the cat I had found is named Buttercup and belongs to Katniss' younger sister. He wasn't supposed to be wandering around the hallways of Thirteen but must have escaped from the Everdeen's unit in search of his owner. After Gale had finished laughing at me, he had gotten Primrose, who seemed to be the only person the cat behaved with, and helped her smuggle the beast into the hospital room that the four of us now occupy. After his initial shock at Gale's reaction, Thom left us, not without shooting me a doubtful and distrustful look.

Gale lets out a small chuckle, failing to hold back a laugh. I don't think he's trying very hard to contain his amusement. It's been about the twentieth time.

"Gale," Primrose scolds but half-heartedly, fighting the smile playing on her lips. I know she is also amused but also too polite to offend me.

But Gale isn't too polite. He loses his restraint and actually laughs. I stare at the ground, scowling harder. Prim pauses in her applying medicine to my lower back.

"Gale," she says, more seriously this time.

"Sorry, sorry," he says, pushing the laugh back. He smiles. "But you have to admit this is all really funny."

I jump off the table before she can reply to her cousin. "Wait, I'm not done," she tells me.

"It's just a few scratches, I'll be fine." I say as politely as possible to her before turning to leave the room, something I should have done in the first place.

I don't even make it a step. Gale is in front of me, not leaning against the wall as I thought he still was. "Woah," he says. His proximity causes me to take a step back and then a few more when he moves forward, effectively herding me back to the examining table. "Let Prim help you. After all, it was her cat that hurt you."

"They're just scratches," I say.

"I'll be quick finishing up. I promise," Primrose says. She doesn't mean to but she has a look in her eyes that make it really hard to say no. Being icy Isabelle to a girl as sweet as her is difficult.

"She'll feel really guilty otherwise," Gale says, causing me to turn my head slightly and look up at him. "You wouldn't want that, right?"

I just glare at him and the smile on his lips, disliking that he knows I can't decline without feeling bad.

This just makes him smile more, the smug son of a gun.

I already know I've given in though so after a few more seconds of glaring, I sigh. "Fine."

But not even the big smile on Primrose Everdeen's face as she continues fixing my back up makes me feel fine or happy with myself. Here I am sitting in a room with and being smiled at by the sister and cousin of the Mockingjay. I should be hating it all. I'm not though.

And that leaves me with an even harder feeling than hatred for me to cope with.


End file.
